


His One Confidant

by Leonidas1754



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Goodbyes, Help, I'm overemotional, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lategame Spoilers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Tags Contain Spoilers, there's gonna be a happy ending I swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 00:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonidas1754/pseuds/Leonidas1754
Summary: Akechi knows what's coming. When he confronts the Thieves in Shido's palace, there are only two possibilities. Either he'll kill them, or they'll kill him.He just can't leave without seeing his only real friend one last time, if only to say goodbye.





	1. Goodbye, My Friend, My Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little AU where Mishima and Akechi accidentally meet and become kind of friends. Maybe it's because I wrote this at 2am, but I actually cried while writing, so... take that as you will.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know. I just… I had to see you again. One last time.”

Mishima frowned. “Akechi… You’ve been cryptic as all hell lately. It’s the middle of the night, and you’re here, and… What the hell is that supposed to mean, huh?”

Akechi swallowed. He’d been restless, that evening, mind ablaze with the possibilities of what was about to happen. “I… I can’t explain. It would just put you in more danger. And after tomorrow… No matter what happens, you won’t be seeing me again.”

He’d traversed the streets in the middle of the night just to see Mishima. It had been months ago that they’d met, simply by chance. They certainly hadn’t hit it off very well- Akechi had oft criticized the Thieves, after all, and Mishima was the one running their fansite- but something about his demeanor had drawn Akechi in. He was something soft, something warm and safe. And once they’d set aside their differences when it came to the Thieves and started focusing on other things, there was a quiet charm to him that made Akechi feel calm and secure.

When Akira had mentioned offhand that they’d confronted Mishima’s Shadow without stealing his heart, Akechi almost snuck into Mementos to do it himself. The thought of Mishima of all people having distorted desires was mortifying to Akechi.

Just looking at Mishima filled Akechi with this strange, intense desire to protect the other in whatever way possible. But Akechi wouldn't be able to. Not after tonight. He looked at Mishima, leaning sleepily in the doorway of his family’s apartment, and he felt that protective desire all over again. Right now, however, Mishima's gaze was simply full of concern and confusion.

Akechi took a deep breath. “I… I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of." And boy, wasn't that an understatement to end all understatements? "I’ve screwed up in a number of ways. But I want you to know that… The time I’ve spent with you has been some of the greatest in my life.” He reached up, cradling Mishma’s cheek in his hand.

Mishima, of course, only looked even more alarmed at that statement. “You make it sound like you’re about to die,” he said, feebly trying to joke.

Akechi swallowed. “It’s very possible I might,” he admitted.

If his hunch was correct, then Akira was still alive. Not only that, but they’d be inside Shido’s Palace tomorrow. And at that point… Either he would kill them for good, or he would be the one to die. And if it was the former, then he’d never be able to look Mishima in the eye again. He’d barely been able to face him when he’d originally thought he killed Akira. The other had looked so crushed, so upset… Akechi had almost caved then and there. Mishima simply had that quality about him that made it hard to upset him. Or perhaps that was just in Akechi’s mind.

Mishima leaned his cheek into Akechi’s hand, frowning and placing his own over it. “Are you sure you can't tell me? Maybe I could help. Or maybe you wouldn’t have to go at all.”

Akechi chuckled softly. If only it were that simple. If only he could find some sweet little place to hide away with Mishima, to shut out the outside world, all of the things he’d done, all of the tragedy and apathy and pain. But it wasn’t that simple. If he ever wanted a chance at his revenge, at peace of mind, this was what he needed to do. There was no turning back.

“Mishima… Whatever happens after all of this, I just want you to know that… That I care very much about you. And I sincerely hope that you find happiness. Because you deserve it, you truly do.” He felt warmth bubble up inside him, and all he wanted to do was hurl. He was never supposed to start caring, not like this, not at all. But somewhere along the line his heart had gotten the better of him. And he was just realizing it now. Now, of all times, why did it have to be now?

Mishima moved closer, bringing his own hand up. His fingers lightly brushed against Akechi’s cheek. “Akechi please, you’re scaring me… What’s wrong? I can help, if you let me, I… There’s been so much happening, Akira was announced dead, you’re acting weird, the Thieves won’t tell me _anything_ , I…” His jaw clenched, a hard, stressed line that Akechi felt guilty for being partly responsible for.

Akechi sighed softly. “I… I promise that if we see one another again, I’ll explain everything. I just feel you should know that it’s far more likely that we won’t. So thank you for putting up with me, I suppose, despite the fact that we’re on opposite sides of this whole Phantom Thieves thing. And that I’m responsible for Kurusu’s capture.”

Mishima gave him a sardonic smile. “Yea, well, I’ll get you back for that one some day.”

Akechi chuckled. “It’s cute that you think you’d be able to.”

Mishima poked his cheek. “I _will_. I don’t care what you say, Mr. Ace Detective. You better watch your back.”

Akechi laughed softly. “Whatever you say.”

Mishima’s smirk faded once more into a frown. “Goro… At least try to see me again, please?”

Akechi’s breath hitched as Mishima used his given name. The way he said it, there was a strange vulnerability and intimacy in his voice, one that Akechi was in no way prepared for or equipped to deal with. “I… I’ll try,” he promised weakly. He doubted he’d ever get the opportunity to keep it, but… He would try, if he ever got the chance.

Still, Mishima seemed content with thant answer. “Alright. Despite everything, I’d say I consider you a friend, you know? I’ll get you to come around about the Thieves yet, and then we’ll see who the fanboy is.”

“Mi… You’re positively absurd, Yuuki. Stubborn as well.” Akechi highly doubted he’d be considered a friend after this.

Mishima blushed softly as Akechi used his given name. “Ah shut up. Do you… Do you want to come inside? Since you’re being all dramatic and stuff. We could spend a little more time together.”

Akechi almost took him up on the offer. Almost. “No, it would be best if I didn’t. I don’t want you in danger by association.”

Mishima didn’t bother to hide his disappointment. “Ah, okay. Well… Good night, then.”

Akechi nodded. “Goodbye, Mishima.” He turned and walked away, heading back down the hall.

“See you later, Goro.”

Akechi stumbled a bit, glancing back to see Mishima’s jaw set in a stubborn line. He was refusing the possibility that this might be the end. He refused to let Akechi simply say goodbye with grace. Akechi couldn’t even find it within himself to be annoyed. He simply chuckled softly and shook his head. Even if it was a lie, a foolish hope…

“See you later then, Yuuki.”

It was probably the closest he’d ever get to saying “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, RIP in pieces my heart, and good night.  
> There might end up being more to this, I dunno, I'm terrible at chaptered fics.


	2. The Making of a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A smattering of the moments Akechi built his friendship with Mishima, leading to his doorstep in the middle of the night, and just after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, yea. So this was never meant to be multichapter but it kind of. Ended up that way. There's gonna be a happy ending, I promise, but first comes the suicidal thoughts, self-harm, discussion of mental illness, oh, and also an attempted suicide (don't worry, he lives).
> 
> So yea. Uh... Enjoy?

Akechi took a deep breath and pried off his shoes. He set them neatly one the sidewalk of the bridge, then placed his suitcase beside them, along with his now shattered phone, rendered unusable by gravity and rain. There was already a written note in the briefcase anyways. No doubt they’d find it when they searched his things, the briefcase was obviously his and Sae knew the code to open the lock.

No one was out today. The rain was coming down in sheets, driving everyone into shelter, and most were still at work or at home. Akechi was alone. He’d failed. He’d failed to get rid of the Thieves, he’d failed to get his revenge, he’d failed… everything. The Thieves were going to change Shido’s heart, and then everything would come to light. And maybe this was cowardly, but really, wasn’t this the way it would have ended anyways? He’d planned to kill Shido, and then himself, since he’d likely be facing life or the death penalty for premeditated murder, and he’d not been planning to hide it. He didn’t have any other goals. He had nothing else. So maybe it was cowardly, but it was also simply expediting a foregone conclusion.

Akechi climbed over the railing and turned around, facing away from the water below. He wanted to look at the clouded sky as he fall. Not the prettiest picture, but better than the watery grave waiting below. He leaned back, feeling gravity’s pull on him, the despair threatening to drag him down. So he let it. The fingers around the railing released, and he felt himself begin to fall.

“GORO!”

Time seemed to slow. Mishima’s voice washed over him and his heart leaped into his throat.

_‘No, please, I don’t want him to see this…’_

The last thing he wanted was for Mishima to see him at his lowest point. Last night was supposed to be the end of it. Why, why was he here? After all this… Akechi couldn’t help but react out, even as he plummeted.

Akechi had thought that the whole “life flashing before your eyes” thing was just a metaphor, but it wasn’t entirely inaccurate. All he could think of was Mishima, Mishima and how they met, how he cared about Mishima, how he got to this point, where he was dropping from a bridge and Mishima was leaping after him.

* * *

 

Akechi rubbed his face softly, stifling a groan. He hated mornings, and was practically non-functional prior to his morning coffee. Unfortunately, his usual coffee shop was closed for renovations, and LeBlanc was too far out of the way to reasonably go to before work. So he’d found a new cafe to try in the meantime. It smelled quite good here, at least, and it wasn’t as if his order was typically complicated.

He simply stood at the end of the line, at least, until someone bumped into him. Akechi turned around as he heard a mumbled apology from someone who looked even less awake than him. Akechi had the excuse of work for being up so early despite summer vacation, but he couldn’t fathom a reason this other student-age male would be up this early. Ah well. It wasn’t all that important.

The other male seemed to stare at him for a few moments before speaking again. “... Akechi Goro?”

Akechi wasn’t too surprised to be recognized, so he just nodded and brought a hand up to stifle a yawn. “Mhm. Can I help you?”

The stranger slowly shook his head. “No, just never seen you here before. Mostly regulars around here.”

“Well, my usual place is closed, so I’m trying somewhere new,” Akechi explained. “And you are..?”

“Mishima Yuuki,” was the reply as this stranger reached up to rub his neck.

Akechi raised a brow. “You run the Phantom Aficionado website, don’t you?”

Mishima pursed his lips, glaring at Akechi a bit. “Yea, what of it?”

Akechi chuckled. That glare might’ve been threatening if he wasn't so sleepy and cute. And Akechi might’ve questioned why he found it cute if he’d been more awake. “No need to get so defensive. I understand we’re on opposite sides of this whole Phantom Thief thing, but that doesn’t mean we have to be unfriendly.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Let’s be buddy buddy with the guy who wants to toss my heroes in jail, sounds fantastic,” Mishima deadpanned.

Akechi almost laughed, managing to stifle it down to a soft noise of amusement. “Now you’re just being unreasonable.” He turned, as it was his turn at the counter, and ordered a drink, stepping aside to let Mishima order as well.

To his surprise, Mishima just gave the barista a wave. “Your usual?” she asked, and Mishima nodded before moving to lean against the counter beside Akechi. He seemed about ready to fall asleep on his feet, and Akechi was half afraid he’d fall over.

Mishima seemed to be aware enough, at least, to notice Akechi was unintentionally staring at him. “... What?”

“You’re here often enough that they know your order?” Akechi probed curiously.

Mishima nodded slowly, palming a yawn. “Every day since I was ten.”

Akechi blinked, mildly startled by the admission. “Goodness, and I thought I had a reliance on caffeine. So long of drinking coffee from the same place, though, that’s quite the marvel.”

“I just like it. It’s good.”

They both jumped as the barista returned with their drinks. Akechi thanked her softly before popping the lid off his french vanilla coffee and reaching into his pocket. He retrieved a small bag from there as he set the cup down, fishing out a single cinnamon stick and delicately dropping it into the cup. He looked up to see Mishima staring at him. “... What? I enjoy a little cinnamon in my coffee.”

“Uh… You can get a little cinnamon in your coffee if you ask. That’s not a little cinnamon, that’s an entire stick. Did you seriously just drop an entire cinnamon stick into a perfectly good french vanilla coffee?” Mishima asked as they moved away from the counter so other customers could order.

Akechi frowned, mildly annoyed at the jab at his beverage choice. “Well that’s just the way I like it. I’m not even sure what abomination you have in your cup.” He motioned to Mishima’s cup, a steaming thing with far too much whipped cream and sprinkles on top.

Mishima scoffed. “Excuse you, this is called a black bear. It’s chocolate, caramel, and hazelnut, and it’s really good.”

“There’s whipped cream and sprinkles on it.”

“I _like_ whipped cream and sprinkles!”

Akechi rolled his eyes. “I don’t think anyone who puts rainbow sprinkles on their coffee has any right to criticize _anyone’s_ coffee choices.”

“Fuck you and your cinnamon stick too.”

* * *

 

“Ah, good morning, Akechi-kun.”

Akechi carefully sat down at the small table, across from Mishima. “Good morning. You look rather… tired,” he said delicately.

It was a bit of an understatement. While he’d looked sleepy when they’d first met, he’d perked up after drinking his absurd coffee. Now, though, Akechi could see the cup was half-empty and Mishima looked even worse than that time. There were bags under his eyes, and he was paler than usual. Still, he smiled at Akechi, forced as it was.

“Yea,” Mishima said, “I’ve just been busy with the Phansite. Things have gotten kinda crazy with the Medjed stuff, and it’s hard to reel it in by myself. Maybe I should get some other moderators…” He trailed off with a soft yawn.

Akechi took a sip of his own coffee. “Yes, I think you should. You’re bending over backwards trying to keep things under control, you need to take care of yourself.”

Mishima chuckled. “I know, I know. My mom’s been getting on me too. But… I gotta keep the site running. The Thieves need it, so…” He shrugged.

Akechi pursed his lips, mildly disgruntled. “I think you should just forget the Thieves for a few moments- And no, not because I’m against them,” he quickly said as he saw Mishima about to interrupt him. “I’m saying this because working like this is going to hurt you pretty badly, I would say. Look at you, you look about to fall asleep on your feet.” Akechi, of course, felt a little guilty. He was the one to trigger this whole Medjed incident, after all, him and Shido. Still, he pushed the emotion aside. “I understand you feel you owe them after everything is said and done, but still, you should put your own health first.”

“It’s not that I owe them. But… They saved my life, Akechi-kun, and they do a lot of good, even if you don’t agree about the ends justifying the means. And…” Mishima shook his head. “I can’t say more. Just know that it means a lot to me, and I can’t let them down.” Still, even as he said it, he looked upset.

Akechi decided to press his luck. “I keep telling you, you need to put yourself first, if not doing so means you’re getting hurt. Besides, you insist on this, yet you don’t look very happy about it.”

Mishima moved the cup in his hands, frowning. “... I’m not. Lately, their leader, who I usually give the info to, has been too busy to even respond to me asking him to meet. I know he’s busy, rationally I know it’s just in my head, but I just… I feel unappreciated. Like they’re just taking me for granted.”

Akechi nodded. “I can understand why. You break yourself over keeping the site in good condition, making it a safe place for people to talk about their troubles, and you can’t even meet up with the leader to give him information.”

Mishima looked up, eyeing him suspiciously. “... You know that even if I stop helping them, I’m not going to give you any information.”

Akechi laughed softly. Fiercely loyal, this one. It was admirable. “I don’t expect it. Is it so hard to believe I have no ulterior motive?”

“A little, yea, considering you knew who I was right away in regards to the Thieves and you’re being really sympathetic.” Mishima shifted in his seat, taking a long drink of his coffee.

Akechi supposed he couldn't exactly blame the other for his suspicions. “Well, in any case, I agree on that you should get another admin. Do you have anyone in mind?”

Mishima slowly shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Everyone I know is either too busy or I don’t trust them enough.”

Akechi nodded. “I’d offer to help, but…”

Mishima snorted. “Yea, no. Thanks anyways.” He sighed softly before downing the rest of his coffee. “I wish I could just bundle up my insecurities and throw them out a window. They’re really annoying.”

Akechi chuckled and sipped his coffee. “Mm, I can quite understand that. I’ve tried beating mine down many a time, but they always find ways to pop back up.”

Mishima raised a brow. “You have insecurities. Seriously.”

“Everyone does, Mishima-kun. Being famous doesn’t really change that. Actually, it’s the main reason for one of my biggest insecurities,” Akechi said, resting his chin in his hand.

Mishima tilted his head. “Really? What is it?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you. After all, you could spread pretty nasty rumors about me, and defame me in the name of the Phantom Thieves,” Akechi explained with a wry smile.

Mishima brought a hand up, slender fingers tracing an X over his heart. “Cross my heart, I’d never do that sort of thing. It’s a hell of a low blow.”

Akechi smiled softly. Maybe it was silly, but switching his regular coffee shop felt like one of the best decisions he’d made, if it meant speaking with Mishima each morning. He was always just so earnest and sweet, it was a kind of positivity Akechi hadn’t known he’d needed. And in a strange way, he felt safe with Mishima.

“... Alright, if you cross your heart, I guess I can tell you,” he said softly. “Really, because I’m so well-known, it can be hard to tell if people genuinely care about me, or just care about what I can do for them, or what advantage they get from knowing me. As a result, I find it hard to trust people.”

Mishima nodded as Akechi spoke, placing his now empty cup aside. “Yea, I can see where you’re coming from. That’s rough, man.”

Akechi shrugged a bit. “It’s just part of this sort of life, I suppose. Perhaps that’s why it’s easier to talk to you. You hate me, after all,” he said with a chuckle.

Mishima laughed as well. “I don’t _hate_ you. I just disagree with you about the Phantom Thieves. You seem like a pretty good guy otherwise, and I do get why you’re against the Thieves.”

Akechi bit his lip softly, glancing away. He wasn’t tricking Mishima, per say, but he felt inexplicably guilty anyways. “I’m… not sure you would say that, if you knew the whole story.”

“Well, unless you tell me the whole story, I’m just gonna go on what I know,” Mishima stated with a shrug.

Akechi smiled softly and shook his head. “I don’t quite understand you, Mishima-kun. But thank you. I should be going, I do have work to do. Please at least try to get some rest.”

Mishima nodded and got up as well. “Yea, yea, I’ll take a nap or something. See you tomorrow, Akechi-kun.”

As they exited the cafe and went their separate ways, Akechi was hit with a particularly strong wave of self-loathing. Now Akechi had always known he wasn’t particularly mentally sound, his plan to murder his own father for revenge was a bit of evidence towards that, but he’d always had it relatively under control, at least. He focused on his revenge and how to achieve it, and not much else. When he really stopped to think about himself, he couldn’t deny his reality was far from the lovely facade he portrayed as the detective prince.

He felt like he was conning Mishima, even if he wasn’t actually trying to get anything from him. It just felt nice to have someone genuine to talk to. He hadn’t been lying about his insecurity, and talking with Mishima was just… pleasant.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, Akechi tripped and fell, holding his hands out to catch himself. He crashed to the ground with a soft yelp of pain. His hands stung harshly, and when he sat back and looked at them, they were all bloody and scraped. Akechi swallowed back hard.

He used to hurt himself, when he was younger. Nothing too harsh, nothing that would leave permanent marks, just nails and biting and going too long without eating. But it had been years. When he’d gotten Robin Hood, he’d worked to stop hurting himself, since it wouldn’t look very good to others if they found out. Now, though, he felt that impulse again, violently potent and feeding off his guilt about Mishima.

Akechi took a deep breath and stood, doubling back to the cafe’s bathroom to wash his hands. The water stung, but it would be better than getting an infection and having Sae ask why he was coming in with bloody hands.

Today seemed to be shaping up to be a long day.

* * *

 

Akechi cursed softly as he dove out of the way, a ball of fire crashing where he’d once been standing. Shido had ordered him to make Principal Kobayakawa go berserk, but he was putting up much more of a fight than anticipated. On the plus side, it was much easier to traverse Mementos than a Palace. On the downside, there was no cover to speak of, so Akechi was stuck running like hell from the onslaught of attacks. The Shadow had cut him off from the exit as well, meaning Akechi couldn’t just make his Shadow go berserk and run.

He fired off a few warning shots, trying to get him out of the way, but Kobayakawa’s Shadow just kept coming at him, completely undeterred, forcing Akechi to start hitting back. The Shadow knew perfectly well what Akechi’s presence meant, even if Kobayakawa himself wasn’t fully aware of Akechi’s role.

The fight was a struggle, and for a few moments, Akechi was sure he’d die there. That was when he unloaded his gun into Kobayakawa’s Shadow, closing his eyes tight as he braced for the blow that was sure to come.

But it never did. Akechi opened his eyes to see the Shadow kneeling on the ground, holding his chest before finally disappearing.

Akechi’s blood went cold. While he’d killed plenty of normal shadows, one that belonged to a specific person… Akechi didn’t know what the ramifications might be. Akechi bit his lip and picked himself up, limping back towards the entrance to Mementos to speak with Shido and inform him of what had happened.

* * *

 

“It’s nice to get some fresh air, isn’t it? I should really come here more often, mom says it would help with my mental health.”

Akechi nodded as he sat down on the bench beside Mishima. “It likely helps keep a positive mentality. Though I can’t say I know much about that sort of thing.”

Mishima chuckled and leaned back, looking up at the sky. The sun was setting, painting the sky with gorgeous reds and purples through the breaks in the trees. Akechi would likely enjoy it more if he didn’t feel so woefully unprepared. Mishima had asked him to go hang out in the park completely out of the blue, and Akechi wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, if he had some sort of ulterior motive. Or perhaps he just genuinely wanted to spend some nice time with Akechi that didn’t involve being half asleep and the smell of coffee. That seemed more likely, but Akechi had been on edge ever since Kobayakawa was announced dead, and Shido had gotten on Akechi’s case about it.

Akechi jumped as he felt Mishima’s hand gently touch his where it rested on the bench and looked to him. Mishima was frowning, concern etched into the soft curves of his face.

“Akechi-kun… Are you alright? You seem really stressed,” Mishima gently probed.

Akechi sighed, looking down. “... Not really, no. A lot has been happening lately, with my personal life and the Phantom Thieves case.”

Mishima’s frown deepened. “You don’t think the Thieves killed my principle, do you? A lot of people think they did it, there’s rumors about a calling card and all that.”

Akechi couldn’t hold back the mildly bitter laugh. If only Mishima knew. “No, I don’t think they did. It’d be a little strange for them to suddenly start killing now, especially with someone minor like your principle. And it’s highly doubtful they’d leave a calling card if they were planning to kill him.”

Mishima nodded, pulling his hand away to cross his arms. “There’s all sorts of rumors going on. And I have a really bad feeling about all this. Like the Medjed incident was the calm before the storm.”

“Perhaps your instincts are right. I don’t believe there’s much we can do about it, though.” Akechi looked up at the sky again, frowning. “Some days I wish I could just… Run away from it all. But that wouldn’t exactly solve any problems, now would it.”

“Could just die. Just for a little bit.”

Akechi looked to Mishima in alarm and confusion. “I… What?”

Mishima blushed, rubbing his neck. “Sorry, I… Didn’t mean to say that out loud. Dark humor or whatever.” When Akechi didn’t respond, simply staring at him, he winced and looked away. “I… Promise not to freak out?”

“I will try my best,” Akechi said, raising a brow.

“I may or may not be mildly suicidal,” Mishima said quickly. “It’s not that I actively want to kill myself, at least, not anymore, I just… I don’t know, there’s really no way to put this that doesn’t sound terrible. Sorry.”

“No, it’s… It’s alright. I can kind of understand, I think. I just hadn’t expected that. Though perhaps I should have, considering all the troubles you’ve gone through, it’s not too surprising if I really think about it.” Akechi placed a light hand on Mishima’s shoulder. “If you want to talk about it… I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Mishima chuckled. “Thank you. But it’s fine. I’ve been dealing with this for years, it’s just… something wrong with my brain. Not much to do about it other than cope. I used to hurt myself a lot, especially when Kamoshida was around, but now, well… I haven’t hurt myself in over three months. Maybe it sounds weird to be proud of that, but I am.”

Akechi smiled softly and shook his head. “That doesn’t sound weird at all. It’s good that you haven’t hurt yourself, and you’ve been fighting that all this time. That takes a certain kind of strength, one I’m not sure I would have in your scenario.”

One Akechi knew he didn’t have. He’d stopped, a long time ago, but here he was, wearing long sleeves in the summer because he’d started hurting himself again. This time, it was with knives, short little red cuts that satisfied his desire to punish himself and made him sick to his stomach at the same time.

Mishima blushed softly, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “Now you’re just embarrassing me, heh. It’s not that amazing.”

“On the contrary. People underestimate how deep a mental illness can run, how… powerful that urge to hurt oneself can be,” Akechi said, voice soft.

Mishima’s smile faltered. “Akechi-kun… Is there something _you_ want to talk about?”

Akechi chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I was just a bit preoccupied. It’s a rather heavy topic, after all. No young person should ever want to hurt themselves, especially to the point of death…”

Mishima nodded in turn, but still looked concerned. “Well… If you want to talk, too, I wanna listen. I can help you too.”

“If I want to talk about anything like that, you’ll be first on my list. It helps to speak with those who can sympathize, I imagine.” Akechi tried his best to smile reassuringly, not wanting Mishima to worry about him.

Mishima nodded. “Yea. As well as having someone who won’t freak the fuck out, too. You know, that was something I never understood, people freaking out and telling you it’s bad. Like, if you’re doing it and telling someone, you probably already know it’s bad, that’s why you’re telling them, because you want to get help! All yelling at them does is make the person feel worse.”

Akechi nodded. “That makes sense… You’re a very good person, you know that?”

“Heh… I try my best.” A look of guilt flashed across his face anyways. “I… I want to be. To make up for what I’ve done in the past.”

“Are you talking about what happened with that friend of yours? You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

Mishima shook his head. “No, it’s not that- Well, it’s not _just_ that. I was planning something bad. Something really bad. After Kamoshida hurt Shiho. I probably shouldn’t say, though. I mean, you could arrest me.”

Akechi raised a brow, mildly concerned. “Well… Cross my heart,” he said, mimicking that same motion Mishima had made some time ago, “that I won’t. I mean, I’m guessing it’s related to Kamoshida, in which case he deserved whatever you were planning.”

Mishima smiled slightly. “... I… may or may not have been planning to uh…” He glanced around nervously, as if making sure no one else was listening. “... I was planning to kill him.”

Akechi’s eyes widened. “That’s… rather drastic, don’t you think?”

Mishima shrugged. “Maybe. But… When Shiho attempted to kill herself, I nearly did too. I had the pills in hand, and my mom was away on a long trip, so no one would have found me. But then I realized… Even if it would end it for me, it wouldn’t end it for the other students. They’d still be in Kamoshida’s grip.”

“The school was involved in the coverup, and the students were too afraid to talk, so without solid evidence, going to the police would have done nothing, and the only good witness wasn’t guaranteed to ever wake up…” Akechi said softly, mostly thinking aloud. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made, and the more cold dread filled him.

Mishima confirmed his thoughts with a nod. “The only way out I could see was to kill him. And then… I’d kill myself. Because I could barely live with myself before, let alone after murdering someone, even if it’s for a good reason. And there’s no way I’d be able to get away with it, so my life would basically be over. Besides,” Mishima continued with a bitter laugh, “What better revenge on Kamoshida than to be killed by one of the very students he’d given hell all that time?”

Akechi’s stomach felt like it had dropped out of him. That plan, to kill someone and then yourself, out of revenge… It was all too similar to Akechi’s own plan against Shido. And to kill himself for basically the same reasons, that Mishima’s life would be over because he wouldn’t be able to get away with it, it ached within Akechi’s very soul.

“Well… Your secret is safe with me. Besides, he’s in prison now, and he won’t be hurting anyone ever again, least of all you and your friend.”

Mishima nodded. “Yup.”

Silence settled between the two, and Akechi really wasn’t sure what to say. Perhaps nothing at all. A warm breeze blew by and Akechi settled his hand on the bench again, Mishima’s soon resting on top of it. And that felt nice, just a simple, warm touch.

“... I feel dead inside, Akechi-kun,” Mishima finally said.

Akechi laughed at the unexpectedness of it. “Well… As long as your outsides aren’t dead too, I think we’ll be safe for now.”

Mishima chuckled as well, smiling as he watched the sky turn black.

* * *

 

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Shido said as he looked up from his papers.

Akechi swallowed thickly, but held his ground. “No. I refuse. I will not outright kill him.”

Shido snorted. “Please, you have killed before.”

“Accidentally!” Akechi insisted. “Death was never our intention!”

Shido frowned. “You should have known what you were getting into. We need to make the Thieves’ popularity plummet, and Okumura’s death will do just that. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly grown better morals in all this.”

“You know damn well that accidental and indirect deaths are far different than killing someone directly,” Akechi hissed, his hands clenched into fists.

Shido glared at him. “I don’t care. You have your orders.”

“And I refuse them.”

With that, Akechi turned and practically stomped out of Shido’s office, anger turning into sick apprehension. He’d never outright rejected Shido’s orders before, and he hoped this wouldn’t screw up his chances to get his revenge.

* * *

 

Akechi glanced over the Phansite with wide eyes, gripping Mishima’s shoulder tightly. “That’s… Quite scary. I never imagined people would go so wild over this. They’re like wolves circling a wounded calf.”

Mishima shuddered under his hand. “I really didn’t need that imagery.”

Akechi winced. “Sorry.”

Mishima shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re right anyways, it’s been like this since the calling card to Okumura was sent. It’s kind of terrifying.”

“You really, really need another moderator, did you ever find anyone?” Akechi asked.

Mishima shook his head again. “No. And it’s getting more and more out of control. I’m half dreading of what will happen after the press conference.”

Akechi sat beside him. Mishima had texted him, seeming quite worried about the Phansite and the Okumura Foods press conference happening that evening, and asked him to meet at their coffee shop to watch it together. Akechi could perfectly understand why; there were many members of the site going absolutely mad with anticipation, some even calling for blood, and Mishima was fighting a losing battle against complaints at their messages being deleted and more rabid users. Even now, reading the forum posts himself, Akechi felt a pang of fear run over him.

Mishima reached up, covering his face. “This… This is supposed to be a safe place, somewhere where people can talk about their problems and put in requests if they feel the need to, and it’s just turned into… this. And there’s a lot of people who are just, they’re upset, they don’t feel safe anymore. It hurts.”

Akechi squeezed his shoulder again. “I’m sorry, Mishima-kun…” He wasn’t sure what else to say. To have to handle this, it was madness.

Mishima sighed and looked at the forum a little longer before closing his laptop. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Whatever happens, there’s probably going to be a mess to clean up on the site.”

Akechi moved his chair a bit closer, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “Take a breath. You’ve proven you can handle yourself and the site, you’ll still be able to do it, whatever happens.”

Mishima smiled softly in return. “Thanks. I’m just… I feel like I’m in over my head.”

“I certainly can understand that.” Akechi frowned, placing his hands back in his lap. He glanced up at the TV in the coffee shop, which had been turned to the channel Okumura planned to speak on upon request. “... It’s about time, it should be starting soon.”

Mishima nodded and leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the TV in anticipation. Together, they watched the interview. It was as expected, Okumura looked miserable and apologetic, and it was obvious to Akechi that his heart had been changed. As he started to speak, however, something went wrong.

Mishima and Akechi watched in horror as Okumura tried to speak and choked, clutching at his chest as he coughed up blood and fell over, and after a few moments, the live feed was cut.

Nausea slammed into Akechi like a tidal wave, and he was filled with the very, very stark feeling of guilt. This was his fault. He’d outright refused to kill Okumura through the Metaverse, and somehow, in an astounding bout of stupidity, he’d somehow forgotten that there were other ways that Shido could have people killed. That was no doubt what had happened here, and now, it likely would appear as if the Thieves were responsible. At the very least, people would jump on them as the guilty party, and once that ball was rolling, it would be near impossible to stop. If he’d just lied about it, told Shido he did it without taking action, pass it off as being wrong about how to kill people using the Metaverse. He could have prevented this death. Instead, he gave Shido enough time to plan an alternative.

Beside Akechi, Mishima had gone deathly silent, as had the rest of the mostly-empty coffee shop. Only a few other customers and the handful of staff were in the building. Not a soul said a word.

Finally, Mishima stood. He lifted his laptop, turned, and left without a word to anyone. That seemed to break the spell lingering over the shop; the staff broke out in frantic whispering to one another as the other customers spoke to each other about how terrible it was, and wondering whether the Thieves were at fault, since he seemed about to confess and he’d been a target.

Akechi overcame his stunned silence and scrambled out of his seat, running out the door. “Mishima-kun!” He turned around, spotting him walking down the sidewalk, and dashed after him. “Mishima-kun, wait!”

Mishima stumbled a bit as Akechi caught up and grabbed his shoulder, though he remained stubbornly turned away. “What, are you going to say that you told me so, that they’re dangerous and need to be arrested?”

“What?” Akechi pulled on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. Mishima tried to hide his face, but Akechi could see how utterly distraught he was. “No… You just ran off, and I’m worried about you. That was… that was horrible.”

Akechi wanted to run off right then and shoot Shido in the head right this moment. But even more so, he felt guilty. If he hadn’t refused Shido to his face, if he’d just pretended to play along and bought some time, he could have saved Okumura, Akechi could have prevented Shido from killing him for the sake of making the Thieves look terrible and making people hate them. He could have saved Mishima this pain. This was his fault.

Mishima stared at the sidewalk, hands clenched into fists. “... What if they did do it?” he asked quietly.

Akechi’s eyes went wide, then he violently shook his head. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I’m sure the Thieves are innocent, at least in this respect. And they’re going to need the support of their site Admin even more now, because others are bound to blame them.”

Mishima laughed softly. “Oh god, I don’t want to see the site. I don’t want to check that.”

“Then don’t. You can leave it for tonight, just… take care of yourself first. I can walk you home, if you want. Or you could come over to my apartment and rest, it might be closer.” Akechi isn’t sure what made him offer, it was ridiculous, but Mishima looked so vulnerable, so scared. Akechi needed to shelter him, if only temporarily. “I’ve got warm blankets and ice cream, we can binge movies and not think about it for now.”

Mishima looked him over, as if he was sure this was a trap and was trying to figure out what it was. Then he slumped forward, forehead resting on Akechi’s shoulder. “... Alright. Let’s go. I don’t wanna be at home alone tonight, I’ll just end up drowning in my own mind.”

“... Alright. I agree, you shouldn’t be alone tonight. I’d rather not be alone either, honestly.” He gently took Mishima’s hand and tugged him along the sidewalk, heading for his own apartment.

When they arrived, Akechi immediately directed Mishima to his couch, taking the phone and laptop from him and setting them on the coffee table. He handed Mishima the remote to the TV, letting him scroll through some streaming service as Akechi went and got a tub of ice cream and two spoons. For once, he found himself thankful that he lived alone, as it meant he didn’t have to explain himself to any relatives or roommates.

Together, they sat and binged movies and tried their best not to think about what was going on with the Thieves and Okumura and their troubles. They found that neither of them cared for horror movies, and Mishima prefered romance while Akechi liked adventures better. They ended up settling on nature documentaries, somehow, which seemed to calm Mishima as they marveled over the strange wonders of nature.

Eventually, Mishima fell asleep against Akechi’s shoulder, and Akechi swallowed. So much trust in one simple action, all that Akechi didn’t deserve. He felt a cry of frustration and anguish build up inside him, and he brought his hand up to his mouth. He bit the side of it, to stifle himself, the pain of it jolting through him and just making him bite down harder.

Pathetic. He was utterly pathetic.

Mishima was so strong, dealing with all this, and Akechi? Akechi was just a liar and a fraud. Mishima was far too good to be associating with him. It ached deep in his chest and made him want to vomit. Instead, he bit down harder, tears forming in his eyes from the pain, both physical and emotional.

It was then that he spotted Mishima’s laptop on the table in front of him. Carefully, doing his best not to disturb Mishima, he snagged the laptop and carefully opened it, wincing at the light. Thankfully, while Mishima stirred a bit, he didn’t wake. To Akechi’s surprise, there was no password, so he didn’t have to try and brute-force his way in. And Mishima was still logged into the Phansite.

Akechi pursed his lips as he refreshed the page and assessed the damage. Mishima had been right to be afraid- things were getting quite ugly. Many were shocked, of course, and confused. There were some who refused to believe the two things were connected, that there must be some other reason he died, but many pointed out that the timing was too perfect, that it had to be connected to the Thieves. They felt scandalized, hurt, betrayed by the Thieves, but even worse, some were _happy_ it had happened, calling it true justice and saying the Thieves should have acted sooner, making Akechi feel sicker.

He quickly studied Mishima’s admin setup before furiously going through the forums. He left many discussions alone, as he didn’t want to cause more trouble with people claiming the admin was censoring things, but he focused on banning those celebrating the death and calling for more, and gave warnings to those who were getting out of hand, whether they were making threats or trying to bring the discussion to places it didn’t belong, like the requests section or threads that were specifically made for discussion among those who didn’t believe the Thieves were guilty and theories on who the real culprits were.

Akechi worked well into the night, doing his best to swiftly take down offenders, issuing warnings and suspensions left and right. Many were seeing the admin activity and begging for a statement from the one in charge, but Akechi didn’t feel comfortable fully speaking as Mishima, not wanting to say anything Mishima wouldn’t agree with, especially since taking it back would likely mean him admitting to someone getting control of his admin duties, and that certainly wouldn’t go over well.

Eventually, though, Akechi’s exhaustion got the better of him, and he fell asleep where he was, leaning against Mishima.

* * *

 

Akechi was awoken by the sound of an alarm going off, as well as Mishima jolting upright beside him. He nearly fell over and dropped the laptop in his lap, but managed to avoid both as he sat upright and looked around blearily.

Mishima yanked his phone off the table and turned off the alarm, groaning softly. “Shit, that’s my alarm for school… I don’t think I have enough time to go home and get a shower, I’ll have to skip it…” He looked over and trailed off, seeing Akechi holding his open laptop. “... Akechi? What are you doing with my computer..?”

Akechi winced guiltily. “Well you were so worried about the site, I wanted to help. So I moderated some while you were asleep. I just handled the ones that were going against the rules, some bans but if you look them over I think you’ll agree that their behavior was simply toxic and not good for the community, and others were just given warnings since they weren’t as bad,” he rambled.

For a few, heartstopping moments, Mishima looked angry. Then he slumped, tears peeking from the corners of his eyes as he smiled. “Thank you. Sorry, I just… I worry. And I get… protective, I guess? About the site, at least. But thank you. If I find any funny business, though, I’ll kick your butt!” He teased, wiping his eyes.

Akechi relaxed a bit, chuckling softly. “I’ll hold you to that. I just hope I was able to help. It really is rather ugly, unfortunately…”

Mishima sighed heavily. “Well, if you were good, maybe I’ll actually make you a moderator. Goodness knows I’ll need one.”

“Heh, if you think so, I’d be glad to help.” Akechi smiled at him, hoping to be reassuring.

Mishima smiled back. “Thank you.” Then he seemed to remember the time and yelped softly, gathering his things quickly. “Crap, I gotta go! Thank you for everything, Akechi-kun!” He darted off out the door, leaving Akechi to watch him go.

Akechi smiled fondly, a soft warmth filling his chest. It remained as he cleaned up the now-melted ice cream and tossed it out, not even upset at the waste of the sweet treat. It wasn’t until he checked his phone that his heart plummeted.

There were at least three missed calls from Shido, and a fair number from others, as well as a few missed messages from Sae. Sae was simply outraged about the events and even more resolved to bring the Thieves to justice.

Shido… Shido’s plan, and Akechi’s involvement in said plan, wasn’t over yet. And Akechi had a feeling that if he messed up again, Shido wouldn’t be so forgiving.

* * *

 

Akechi didn’t think he’d ever forget the anger on the Phantom Thieves’ faces when he blackmailed them. Incredulousness, fury, betrayal, all written in their expressions like an open book.

Akechi sat in the final bathroom stall, retching into the toilet despite having already thrown up what little contents his stomach had contained. It hurt, it hurt so much. His throat burned with stomach acid, his arms were scratched from his own fingernails, and his chest was aching like it was going to burst.

It was all Shido’s plan, to lead them along, to betray them, to _kill_ them. First their leader, and then the rest, and sure, Akechi hated the guy, but he didn’t want to see Kurusu _dead_ , just knocked down a peg or two.

If Akechi didn’t do it, though, Shido would make sure he paid for it. Whether that meant outing him to the public or just plain killing him so he could never reveal what he knew, Akechi didn’t know, but it didn’t really matter in the end. His only chance now was to comply and hope for the best. Perhaps he could pull off his revenge. But then what? Shido, at least, was as guilty as they came, Akechi felt he could live with that blood on his hands. But the blood of the Thieves was another matter entirely. Their actions weren’t completely innocent, but they didn’t deserve death, they were trying to do good.

Perhaps he’d just turn himself in anyways. Confess to everything. But no, that wouldn’t work. Even if it managed to be enough to knock Shido out of power, the problem ran deeper, likely deeper than Akechi himself even knew.

How had he let himself get to this point? Why had he thought this would ever work? He was doomed from the start, he’d just been too blind to realize it. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, folding his arms on the edge of the toilet.

For the first time in years, he considered just killing himself now. Then, Shido wouldn’t be able to get at the Thieves through the Metaverse, or do any more damage through it. Then again, Shido had proven he had plenty of other ways to do damage. Okumura was a perfect example.

He picked himself up and wiped his mouth, then covered the self-inflicted marks on his arms. Anyone seeing them would just ask more awkward questions. Akechi didn’t deserve their concern or pity.

He had planned to simply leave the school as quickly as possible and head home to get some rest, or possibly kill himself, he wasn’t sure which yet, but of course, his plans always seemed to fall through as of late. This time, it was due to running straight into Mishima as he exited the school.

“Mishima…” he said softly, frozen in place. They hadn’t had the opportunity to truly speak to one another since the morning after the Okumura incident, Akechi being forced to make his morning stops at the cafe brief. Akechi could only imagine what this all had looked like to Mishima.

The look on Mishima’s face transformed from one of confusion and surprise to one of pain and anger. “Akechi-kun… You’ve got some nerve, you know. What do you think you’re doing, huh? Do you really know who the Thieves are?”

Akechi had never been so compelled to spill his guts before, in both the literal and figurative senses. The Thieves’ anger had been one thing, but Mishima’s was another entirely. It felt like he’d just kicked a puppy, but amplified a thousandfold. “Mishima-kun, please, let me explain.”

“You better have a damn good excuse, then,” Mishima hissed, crossing his arms.

Akechi swallowed. “I do know who they are. I’ve known for a while now. And it took a bit of… coercion,” he said delicately, “but please, we’re working together. We have a plan to clear their names.”

“Really?” Mishima asked softly. His glare softened. “I just… You didn’t use me, did you?”

Akechi’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. “No, I never… I never would. I swear, I’d never use you like that, you’re…” He just shook his head, trying to force down another round of sickness. “You’re my friend.”

Mishima looked him over for a few moments before looking away. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“No. It’s a completely understandable reaction. I don’t blame you at all,” Akechi said softly. “I should be getting home, though. We’ve a busy day, tomorrow, and I need to rest.”

Mishima smiled weakly at him. “Okay. Rest well, Akechi-kun, and good luck!”

Akechi smiled and waved before walking away, feeling sick to his stomach once more.

* * *

 

Infiltrating Sae’s palace with the Thieves was actually… fun.

Akechi tried to make the most of what time he had. This meant infiltrating the Palace with the Thieves, but, more importantly, spending as much time as he could with Mishima.

Even if he knew the Thieves didn’t trust him, being able to help them get through the palace, fighting Shadows and finding treasure, exploring every nook and cranny they could find, it was challenging and rewarding. Akechi could swear Kurusu had some form of OCD with the way he scoured every inch of the rooms to find everything he could. It was certainly interesting, and of course, led the team to all the secrets of her palace and ways to get past Shadow Sae’s rigged gambling mechanics.

Sometimes they even went to Mementos to fulfill requests and otherwise train and find treasures, and it felt good, to end up crammed in Morgana’s back seat and joking with the other Thieves.

Of course, days he didn’t spend with the Thieves, he did as much as he could with Mishima. Mostly, they spent their days at the cafe, talking about anything and everything. Everything but the Thieves. Akechi tried to avoid it where he could, not wanting to worry Mishima or make him suspect Akechi’s motivations towards the Thieves were less than pure.

His self-hatred only grew. Every day, he looked at that gun in his briefcase, he saw it and considered every horrible, monstrous thing he’d done, that he was actively doing, and that he planned to do. He was so selfish, too, staying with Mishima even though he knew damn well that he didn’t deserve Mishima’s company.

Every day, he dreaded the time they’d finally steal Sae’s heart, and what he would have to do. As time moved forward, Akechi found himself barely able to keep his food down, his body weakening with shakes and hunger. He managed to force himself to eat, but it got to the point where people were starting to notice his deteriorating state, how tired he was, the dullness in his gaze.

There was a worry behind Mishima’s eyes and Akechi did his best to brush the worries away, to smile for the last ray of light he had. He just wanted these days to be happy, for when they couldn’t be anymore. He wanted to absorb as much as he could, to remember Mishima this way, smiling at Akechi, joking and laughing and his friend.

The day they stole Sae’s heart, Akechi felt like his own was being ripped out, raw and bloody from his chest.

He managed to make his way past the guards and Sae without event, speaking with her with a pleasant smile and an easy lie on his lips. He hated himself for it.

“I’m merely here to assist with the public security interrogation. I am surprised it’s this far underground though… There aren’t any others incarcerated here, yes? Nobody would ever know if things got a little violent…”

Akechi wanted Sae to catch him, to direct him away. When Sae showed him the phone, instead of questioning him further, wishing him luck… He wanted to scream. Instead, he continued walking.

Instead, Akechi directed the guard away, then went inside. He tried to come up with something witty to say, but instead, the truth spilled from his lips the moment the door was closed.

“You’ve probably figured it out by now, what I’ve done… I admit, I hate you. I hate you so much it hurts to think of. But… I hate myself more. Because you were free, you did as you pleased and everyone… You left your mark on everyone, improving their lives, changing their hearts, making this city, this country a better place. And me… I’m just a mask. I feign a smile and I pretend I’m not covered in tar that’s dragging me down.”

Ramblings like tears and sobs burned Akechi’s lips but he couldn’t force them to stop. And Kurusu just continued to stare fearfully at Akechi and the gun in his hand. “Stop looking at me like that!” Akechi shouted out, desperate and pained.

Kurusu didn’t say anything, just flinching before looking to the side. Akechi nearly lost his guts then and there. “Maybe…” Akechi reasoned softly, “Maybe when I do this, he’ll leave the others alone. As long as they keep their heads down…” Akechi swallowed, hand trembling. “I’m sorry, Kurusu. But this is where your justice ends.”

Akechi couldn’t keep his eyes open as he pulled the trigger. He winced as he heard it, as he smelled the blood, and nearly puked again. Instead he dropped the gun on the table and turned around sharply, scrambling out of the room. His first stop was a bathroom, immediately retching into the toilet.

After some time, his phone rang in his pocket. He managed to quit dry-heaving before it stopped ringing and answered it as evenly as he could. “Hello?”

Shido’s voice sounded from the speaker. “Akechi, where are you. Have you finished yet?”

“... Yes, Shido-san, it’s done.”

There was a light hiss from the other end. “I’ve told you not to call me by name. Regardless, all that’s left is to deal with the remnants.”

Akechi’s stomach lurched, mixing with bitterness. Shido could say Akechi’s name, but Akechi wasn’t allowed to say his? That was completely fair, surely. Still, he pushed it, and the continued urge to vomit, aside. “The continued deaths of these teenagers would be a bit much, don’t you think?” he said smoothly, hoping to get Shido to back off. Wasn’t it enough to make him kill Kurusu, wasn’t it enough to get the leader of the Thieves?

Apparently not. “Is there any possibility they’ll want to avenge their leader?”

“... No chance. They’re nothing but cattle anyway… They have no backbone without his guidance.” Akechi continued to twist the knife into his own heart. “I’ll keep my eye on them… Just in case…”

“I’ll be counting on you.”

Akechi placed the phone down, breath hitching once more as Shido hung up. Akechi resisted the urge to scream, or puke again, or just cry. He needed to leave, to go home, to be anywhere but here. But the fear in Kurusu’s eyes flashed in Akechi’s mind, and his breath hitched uncontrollably, leading his chest to heave as he desperately gasped for air.

By the time Akechi could breathe again, could pull himself together enough to leave, the news had already been put out by the stations. The leader of the Phantom Thieves commited suicide in jail.

He needed a coffee.

The coffee shop was eerily quiet as he ordered and sat down. It was the smell that finally brought the sharpest thought to his mind.

Mishima. He’d be crushed by the news, and that was quite the understatement. Akechi opened his phone and immediately tapped the contact to call Mishima before he could think better of it.

It only rang up before Mishima picked up. “Akechi, I don’t want to talk right now. You can probably guess why.”

Akechi swallowed. He’d been prepared for an upset Mishima, of course, but the chill in his voice made Akechi feel sick again. “I… I understand. I’m sorry.” He hung up before Mishima could respond. His breath was hitching again, and he felt his chest grow tighter.

He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t breathe again, the world was swimming around him and he could smell blood. He knew this moment was coming, he’d thought he’d been ready but he wasn’t, he could never be ready. Coffee and blood and dust swirled in his senses. He pressed his forehead against the cool wood of the cafe table, eyes shutting tight from the world swirling around him.

* * *

 

Akechi continued to go to the cafe anyways. Maybe it was some stupid hope, that Mishima would talk with him, but he completely ignored Akechi. Akechi wasn’t surprised. It still hurt, though.

Akechi’s fingers shook as he dropped the cinnamon stick into his coffee. He’d barely eaten in the week since the announcement, since he killed Kurusu. Most of his caloric intake seemed to be coffee. He didn’t miss the looks people gave him in passing, but no one dared approach him. He hadn’t seen Sae since that day either. Then again, he hadn’t bothered going into work, or class.

To his shock, Mishima sat down across from him. “You look like shit,” he said without preamble.

Akechi blinked. “... I’m not doing that well, no.”

Mishima looked away, huffing softly. “A little late to be feeling guilty.”

“It is, isn’t it.” Akechi felt faint. “How’s the Phansite?”

Mishima sighed softly. “I don’t want to talk about that. I don’t want to _think_ about it. I just… want to stop.”

Akechi took a deep breath. “I should go. You have school, right?”

“It’s Sunday,” Mishima said, voice flat. “You still look about to fall over, though.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m getting… exactly what I deserve.” Akechi walked away, heading out the door. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Everything hurt.

* * *

 

Akechi wasn’t quite sure what exactly tipped him off that Kurusu might still be alive. He couldn’t remember much these days anyways. All he knew was he had the feeling that Kurusu might’ve survived, somehow, maybe out of some sense of denial, of delusion, and all he knew was that he needed to search Shido’s palace to find the truth, that would likely be their next target. And if he was right, he needed to…

If Kurusu survived, Akechi needed to kill the Thieves, or else Shido would doom him.

He put one foot in front of the other, making his way to the National Diet Building. If the Thieves were going in today, it would be now, they always went at the same time if they were going in on a Sunday.

Mishima’s face was cemented in his mind from their talk in the middle of the night. His expression when Akechi had said goodbye, the stubborn refusal to accept it, the sudden realization of his own feelings... Akechi hated it. He never wanted to hurt Mishima, but that seemed to be all he’d done in the end. And now, he was going to hurt Mishima again, whether by truly killing the Thieves this time, or by dying himself.

The rain was pouring down, soaking Akechi to the bone. He figured he would be cold, if he could feel much other than the searing ache in his chest. He wasn’t sure he could face them. Disregarding his deteriorating condition, he’d barely betrayed them the last time.

Akechi leaned on the wall, groaning softly. Everything felt wrong. He just hated himself. For everything, from letting himself go to letting things get this far. He wasn’t really sure how he was making one step in front of the other up to that point. Maybe he should just try to talk to them, try to… He didn’t know what talking to them would do. Probably nothing. He was screwed any way this played out.

Akechi’s head was spinning and fogged, taking a deep breath. He saw something out of the corner of his eye and quickly pressed himself back against the building. Six people, so familiar to Akechi now. One had his hood low, but it was obvious to Akechi who it was, with the familiar clothes and bag holding that cat on his back.

Kurusu was alive.

Akechi had no idea how, but his hunch was right. Even attempting to think through it made his head swim more, aching and heated. They soon disappeared, heading into the Metaverse. The only place they could be going was Shido’s Palace.

He needed to follow them, he needed to stop them, or help them, or something, anything, he couldn’t stand aside. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, thumb moving towards the app-

The rain had made his hands slick. His grip was weak, and the phone slipped from his palm. Time felt too slow and too fast all at once, and the phone shattered against the ground with a sickening crack.

That was it. It was over. Akechi didn’t have to pick up the phone to examine it. It was busted, and soaked through from the rain. There was no way he’d be able to get into the Metaverse. No matter what he might’ve chosen, it didn’t matter now. Anything he did now, he was a dead man.

Being a dead man actually sounded pretty appealing, if he thought about it.

He picked up his phone and started walking. He wanted to die, so he was going to do it. He was going to kill himself. He just needed to write a note first.


End file.
